Freedom to Change
by katie says pewpew
Summary: Keely has been lonely and fearful for her entire life - but after one fatally stupid decision, the damaged eighteen year old she once was begins to branch out inside the world of prawns and those who hate them.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Existing**

Dirty blonde hair. Eyes as blue as a clear sky. Clear, pale skin that never darkens. A life almost completely alone within a small, two-bedroom apartment. No friends. Perfect grades. Hours to think about what's out there, and what's not in here.

That basically sums me up. Minus my name. Most people look at my father before they see me, anyway – tall, intimidating, handsome, and working for the greater good. His employer? MNU. He worked to eradicate the prawns' existence in our everyday lives, and also worked to learn of their ways of life: their weapons, their planet, and the mother ship that hovered over Johannesburg. Everyone saw a beautiful façade when his or her eyes rested upon him. Everyone thought he was a perfect gentleman, an important part of society.

Only I saw the truth. The anger, the drinking, the verbal, and sometimes physical, abuse. My mother had died years ago, leaving me alone with a slowly deteriorating and overbearing control freak. My father spoke my name as if it was garbage rolling off his tongue. "Keely, you filthy, lazy _whore_!" A dinner plate broken on my skin. A thousand stings. Only because he was still hungry. I hadn't put enough on his plate.

That night, I cleaned up the bloody pieces of porcelain, made another plate without getting my dripping blood on it. I bandaged myself, and cleaned up the drops that had leaked to the floor. My arms ached. So did my eyes.

My father was often gone, though. I rejoiced in the days when I was asleep before he was home. I would often travel to a nearby field of wheat grasses and wild flowers, too. Other girls about my age would flounce around the nearby males, go shopping, get piss drunk and ruin themselves.

I wasn't a normal eighteen year old. I was suppressed and broken. No one saw beneath the careful collection of lies my father and I had both built. But I was drowning in them.

The field was my place away from pain. If heaven did indeed exist, it would look like the field. I wouldn't have to think about pasty, off-white walls, neat and immaculate, nor the laundry, cleaning, cooking, and caring that I did for my father. Red-faced, meaty handed father, who never said thank you or gave a smile. The itchy carpet would be off of my mind, and my meager collection of possessions would be burned along with my sadness and loneliness. I didn't want any reminders of what my life was when I went to the field.

The only thing I felt a connection to was a picture of my mother. We looked so alike it was shocking – only, her expression was happy. Loving. She looked like she would have been a good mother. She was gone, though. Always had been. And I had learned, very early on, that love was something I couldn't deserve, or earn. It was given unfairly to those who underestimated its value, while those like myself groveled their entire lives. Hoping. Wishing. All for something that made bile rise to my throat for how much I hated it.

Another thing to add to the list that was just as small and insignificant as my existence: Keely Ardal despised and detested the very thought of love.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Confrontation**

Excited, energetic. Their voices ate away at me. Did all the other students, who were sharing their last day of school with me, see beyond the walls they put up? Did they look out the windows to see the reality? Bitter. I was bitter. Life was bitter.

My classmates weren't, but I didn't have anyone to gossip with like they did. I don't know why, but people avoided me. It'd been the same for many years.

Lonely. Rotting. Slowly rotting.

I watched the clock as the last minutes ticked by. Our teacher, Ms. Henley, paid us no attention. She was young, like us. Brown hair. Brown, sharp eyes. Petite glasses and waist.

She was new to the job. She didn't care for us. Not really. She just tinkered at her desk. Sipping something. I think it was vodka and orange juice.

The final bell rang. The signal that we were free.

I wasn't. Not yet. But I felt ready to be, and tonight – tonight, I would be.

…

The sky was dark and roiling; clouds angrily swept past, and wind pushed at me. My hair flew back, whips on my shoulder blades. I felt almost like a goddess; beautiful, powerful, natural. The storm gave me energy and life. It pulsed beneath my skin.

_Thump, thump. Thump, thump. _

My heart was steady. My mind clear. I felt ready for the storm that would inevitably come. I had prepared for this day. Many dreams and nightmares had ruled over my mind in relation to it. But it was here. I was ready.

"Do you see? I'm growing, now." words like whispers, lost in the waves of air, "Something strong has taken root."

The front door slammed. Heavy footsteps trampled through the front hallway. It was dark inside. I had left all the lights off. I could feel the world shiver in anticipation. My audience was trillions large. Even the planets and stars leaned in, hoping to hear every word.

"_Keely_?" I could taste his anger; bitter, biting into me. He was probably already drunk. It was late, nearing three in the morning.

The back door was closed behind me. The glass shivered as he approached. As he slid the door aside, the plants shook with fear. The grass quivered; my sky broke open, frozen tears falling on my skin. Summer rains had never felt so cold, or so awakening.

"Keely," his voice, though wavering drunkenly, was a stone that grated against me, "get inside."

My father. My life. Everything sat behind me, an open invitation to familiarity, but also to a world I despised. Not far away, a different world awaited; a field of innocence and a new beginning. Memories of my mother, and a suitcase filled with what nonperishable food I could afford and take from the pantry, and any perishable food that would last at least a day. Money from both my wallet and my father's, along with his stash. Clothes and necessities.

_You can do this, _I reminded myself, _You're ready for this._

"No."

"No? Don't mess with me, _girl_. Get inside. Or I will make you."

I turned. He was beet red. I hated beets.

"I'm leaving, Dad. I'm eighteen. I can do what I want, now. And I want to leave."

He was shocked. Below the layers of aggressive hatred, I could see a dying man. Sadness coiled around his pupils, and for a moment, made him seem so small and fragile that he was almost like a child. But I couldn't afford to break now; children didn't have daughters that they mercilessly beat upon every day, and I knew he was no child. He was an adult that was responsible for what he'd been doing.

I didn't wait for him to say anything. I wanted away from him. "Bye, Dad. I've left the address to a P.O. box on the fridge if you ever change your ways."

I headed for the gate, my back to the man that had tortured me during my adolescent years. But that didn't mean he felt like it was goodbye.

His body hit my own like a wrecking ball, flattening us both to the ground. "You will _never _leave me."

I struggled. Breath out of my own mouth and his, burning the grass, burning my ear. Pounding in my veins. My heart was much faster now: _thump, thump, thump. Thump, thump, thump._

A kick to his shin, an elbow to his ribs, and we rolled. I knocked my skull against his nose, and his grip loosened. I scrambled. One foot, two feet. Legs strong and steady. Lungs widening. I stood tall, mighty. Unafraid.

"You don't rule me anymore." My words were punches, slaps, a million bruises. "I don't have to be here any longer. And I won't be."

He laid there, staring up. Broken, battered. A thousand memories of our roles reversed slammed into me. I smiled coldly.

"Goodbye."

The rain washed my sins clean; they were needed. To escape, they were needed, and the earth accepted that. The world around me glowed with lamp light. The sadness of the skies reflected my face back at me, and I could see myself clearly for the first time. I was free, and it felt…

nice.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Freedom**

The rain had begun to let up as I reached the field. I calmly wrung my hair out, sighing contentedly. I felt clean and new. The world was already a better place.

Stepping past the small forest, I stared wondrously around. I'd never been to the field at night. It was almost magical. Completely surreal.

I could see the lump that was my bag and small collection of items within. The sky had already been dark by afternoon, and I knew to wrap everything in a waterproof tarp. If worse came to worst, I could even use it to sleep in or under.

My entire world was wrapped up in that bundle, but excitement bubbled in me. I removed the tarp and folded it out to dry. I unzipped the pack, and dug around a bit for the flashlight I had also packed for this night. The moon wasn't there to light my way.

Success presented me with the cylindrical tube. _Click – _it lighted the ground by my feet. Laying it there for a moment, I rolled up the tarp and placed it inside my bag. I hoisted it to my shoulders and grabbed the flashlight.

I made my way back to civilization. Concrete pathways. Lights against my eyes. It was beautiful in the wet dark. Damp and glorious. I found my way to a motel that seemed clean and cheap enough, even though I had a lot of money saved up from what I took from my father. He'd owed me more than what I was able to get.

Thoughts of him made me realize something beautiful. The fact that I was free to do as I pleased. It comfortably buzzed within my mind, and I was giddy with it. Beautiful freedom.

Beautiful.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: Standing**

It wasn't long before I got a job. A waitress. Money was money, though, and I had to build up some savings if I wanted to attend college. I knew that I could get a lot of scholarships – I had always been one of the top students at my school – all I needed was the rest of the money to pick up what those scholarships wouldn't cover.

I had found a cramped apartment shared with two other people that was dumped in the city. They were nice enough, and kept to themselves – and the rent wasn't too bad, either. I didn't need much space, and a room to myself was all the privacy I needed. I was perfectly happy, in this new world. Freedom was a bliss in itself that would power me for years.

I woke up one morning to a shriek. There was anger here, sometimes. My roommate, Angie, always fought with her boyfriend. They always fought in the mornings, too, after a noisy night of moans and screams. They were passionately angry.

I had work in a few hours, but I had some free money to spend. After a quick goodbye that was ignored, I was out the door. Twenty steps. Tennis shoes flashed at me as I flew down them. Sidewalk.

It was crowded with people outside. Bustling. Noisy. I could smell different restaurants, cigarettes. The heat clawed at my back. I wouldn't have traded it for anything. Being able to wander the streets for as long as I wanted, to buy what I felt like buying. It was glorious.

My eyes flicked past the post office as I treaded the cement. I hadn't received any mail from my father. I hadn't expected any – but somewhere deep down, somewhere far away and small, it still hurt. Blistered and festered. It was as if leaving meant I had to tear a scar open.

Passing by a shop with TVs, I could see the daily news – currently, a warning was being broadcasted about an ex-MNU worker who had the arm of a prawn. The reporter talked about how he was contagious after sleeping with a prawn – something I doubted, because many women had been interspecies prostituting for years. Things like that were kept from the public. Only known to MNU and the gangs that attempted to rule District 9.

And people like me, whose family members worked in MNU. I wondered how many were keeping quiet, just like me.

For a time, I wandered on; aimlessly, listlessly. My mind was elsewhere. Buried within all that I knew of the prawns, MNU, and District 9. It wasn't much, but I was ahead of other civilians.

I was near a Chinese bistro when it hit me.

_That's it!_ I said to myself, _the ultimate freedom! I can go to the gates of District 9. No one to stop me now._

Suddenly, the whole world was brighter. This was the biggest part of being free from my father that I had come across. Conveniently, it was also the weekend. No MNU workers would be there, convincing the aliens to move to a new camp.

It was many miles to District 9 – I had to catch the bus to the edge of the city. From there, I walked. It was hotter under the blazing sun, with no buildings to shield my skin. Sweat trickled down my back, but I continued on. Determination sent me ahead. One foot forward. Another foot forward. Sinew and bone, muscles and skin. All bending me forward.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five: Stupidity**

As I neared the gates, the mother ship seemed to loom over me. Mocking. My mind set was dangerous; I felt like ripping something to pieces. But I wasn't facing what I wanted to kill; the real enemies rested at my back. Feral. Lethal. No human that supported the discrimination and mistreatment of the prawns should be allowed to continue as they did. Perhaps not death. But not happiness or contentment, either.

It was hotter than normal this year. Through heat waves, I could see the statue that guarded the entry gate. A human. An alien. Rock hands united.

It wavered, as if even the statue's residents knew that they were a lie. There were so many lies here, and at MNU. A person easily lost track of them. Many aliens were too focused on surviving to see it all. Both of our worlds were crumbling, though. I knew something unprecedented was about to happen.

Soon, I was close enough to touch the statue. It was decaying. Graffiti covered it, and pieces of limbs had fallen off, breaking against the ground. So easily shattered. Legs and arms, trickling away. It almost sickened me.

In the distance, I could hear music and the din of voices, clicks, and cooking meat. A pot of sins mixed here. The Nigerians were pulled into it like a fly to honey. The aliens were forced to stay.

I bent to a crouch, and fingered the slogan at the bottom of the statue. "_Paving the way to unity."_ What better lie was there?

A sigh escaped me. I wished it were real; peace and unity between us. Being accepting of the aliens was probably the only way to help expand ourselves. They were much more advanced in many ways. The chance to study another race was altogether priceless. Not to mention, they were at least at the same level of intelligence as humans. They were equals.

_Why can't anyone see that we're alike in so many ways? _I wondered to myself, head drooped. The dry, cracked earth stared up at me. Golden weeds. A few ants, traveling home to their queen.

And footsteps. Slow, careful. Made to be quieter. Perhaps to sneak up on me.

I hastily turned, only to have my head meet with something painful. The blow reverberated within me; the sound seemed metallic. It was probably a pipe.

I fell back, dazed. Stars danced haughtily. Twirling. Prancing.

Above me stood a prawn. It seemed gigantic; most of them were at least seven feet tall. Facing that standing up was one thing. Being on the ground with a pissed alien looming over you? I didn't feel so at ease.

It clicked at me, and then looked away. A group of them was approaching. They called out to the one who had hit me, distracting it. Slowly, I moved into a backwards crab walk. They didn't notice my small escape.

I turned over, to my hands and knees. The world seemed frozen. Sweat turned to ice. Fear held my heart in its grip. My limbs ached.

I broke into a sprint.

The city lay so far away, but I knew that there was a guard building nearby. It was stationed only for emergencies; the guards rarely came out. They were my only chance, however.

Again, I felt it. Sinew, and bone. Muscles, skin. Bending. Forever bending. I felt fast. Adrenaline pumped through me almost as fast as my blood. But it wasn't enough.

Somehow, a prawn ended up in front of me. The others were behind me. Before, they had been chasing. Now, I only heard stillness. They were frozen. I was frozen. The world was frozen.

But the prawn in front of me wasn't. Chips of ice broke off as it adjusted its feet. Shards of natural glass. It clicked in a way that could only be described as an order. A threatening one.

My head swam. I was dizzy. The pipe still played its damage.

_This is too much, _I thought, _too much._

I backed away as the prawn approached. It was pointless. Without a head start, I would not get away. But fight or flight lingered within, and I couldn't fight. The prawns were naturally stronger. If I would have a hard time against a male human, a prawn was past the point of no return.

_Click, click. _

I took a dive to the right, ignoring common sense. For a moment, fear shook me, as did hope. It burned. Then the alien surged forward; back covered with alien skin, knees to the ground, elbows dug into pebbles. Hands to my head, and a blinding whiteness came over me. A burning sensation. Tingling behind my ears. It moved deeper. In my ears. In my brain. In my eyes. It tickled, almost.

I couldn't move, and my vision stayed impaired. _What did it do? _I was panicked.

I could feel myself hoisted over its shoulders. It clicked a few times, seemingly to itself, for the other prawns were gone. It began walking, leisurely, as if my weight didn't bother it at all. I rocked with its body. Left, right. Left, right. An arm was set around my waist.

My eyes must have been open. I felt finger-like appendages close them, and the world slipped away. Limbs turned to Jell-o. Against my will, the edges of the universe closed in. A blanket of clouds, stars fizzing against my skin. Tiny fires within a sheet of black ice.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six: Hiding**

"What is it doing here? Are you _crazy_?" Shrill. Berating. Demanding. Female.

"I couldn't let her die, or be sold off – there was something in her expression. She seemed…sad. Almost regretful! I just couldn't let anything happen to her!" Male. Pleading.

"Regretful that a _prawn _was ending her life! You can't just accept that humans are all the same, can you?" The voice lowered to a dangerous hum, "And you're calling it a _her_? Sometimes you're so despicable! I can't live with this – _thing_!"

"She didn't do anything to you, Mom." A third voice. Male. He was young, but strong. I could feel his presence – it pushed at me lazily. Purring, slinking up my legs.

"Great! Just _great_! Look what you've done, Michael – Daniel is a human lover, too!" The middle-aged female's fist made contact with another figure – probably the older male, Michael, "You've ruined us! Ugh!"

I forgot the family around me for a moment – a shock of pain bolted through my head, and I became aware of a dull throbbing.

"Ahhhh." I couldn't help it – painful word vomit. Hell, I felt like vomiting.

My eyes cracked open as silence fell over the room. Stifling silence. I wanted to collapse, but instead began sitting up.

I fell back, arching my back in agony. Pain pulsed within me. Almost alive, like a parasite, feeding off me. Bashing against my brain – a throb with every heart beat.

_Thump, thump, thump. _Quick pounds against my skull.

"_Shit! It's awake!_" Her words were whispers.

"I'm – I'm not an it." I moaned out, holding my head. I felt my legs involuntarily curl.

A screech hissed my ears.

"Michael! How does – what did you do? How is it speaking our _language_?"

"I'm sorry." He whispered, then left.

"Michael! Come back here! Christopher or someone else can deal with this! I won't have that _thing_ near me!" She chased after him, anger in her words.

_Their…language? What? I spoke in English! _I thought, confused, in pain. Stars danced across the black velvet of my inner eyelids.

I felt a finger gently caress the skin under my scrunched eyelids. "He taught you how to speak like us, and you didn't even know it. You understand us, I bet. Can tell whether I'm male or female, my age, my inflections."

Slowly, my eyes creeped open. Somehow, the pounding seemed less intense. Like it was hiding. Creating a nest within my mind. Waiting for later.

A tall, strong-looking prawn stood over me. This one was near eight feet in height, and insistently male. He wore a smile that showed compassion and understanding – something I was surprised to recognize.

"When I was young, I was taken by MNU into their laboratories. A sympathetic human freed me, but I underwent some tests before that. There were humans in there, too, though." He looked into the distance, seeing a distant memory. Sharp and painful, it pricked at his face. Blood dripped from the injuries of his past, "We're all suffering in this, together. As one. Not many can see that, though."

He offered his hand – alien, scaled, and only thrice-appendaged – to my own, small, soft, five fingered hand. They joined, and for a moment, we both stared. What was it in that moment that stilled us?

The joining of races, I realized. One paired with the other. Growing, sprouting within us. A seed that would shake the roots of all other plants on this Earth.

Daniel, as he had been called, pulled me up into a sitting position. He wore fairly nice clothing for a prawn – a shirt that had few holes, and shorts that were once pants, with paint stains. He looked down, and smiled embarrassedly.

"You raid trash cans, first. Most wait for the trash dumps." He looked me in the eyes – serious and sad, "You do what you have to in District 9."

"Not just in District 9." Clicks. From my own throat. Eyes wide, fingers shaking, I felt my lips, my throat. Still the same, on the outside.

"Sorry – I think talking to us might be shocking. If you talk to a prawn..it'll be like that."

"Always?" I gulped. Again. It was there. From me. _Click, click, click. _

"Perhaps."

I felt a more pressing matter against my lower stomach. I awkwardly looked down, avoiding his eyes.

"What is it? I can try to get my father to change it – but there's no guarantee, so.."

"No, i-it's not that. I have to..go to the bathroom."

"Oh. Uh.." He looked around, awkwardly, "One second." Rummaging sounded from outside. Looking around, I realized this might be one of the nicest shacks here. They were all one room – but this one was neat, orderly. Not every possession was a piece of junk, at least, in my eyes.

_Who are they among the prawns? To have control over others, and now this..it's strange._

Daniel returned with a pot. I stared at it awkwardly.

"Our waste system is a bit..different from yours. This is as close as I can get to comfortable, I guess." Foot to foot. He was nervously shifting. "I'll go outside until you're done, and then dump it for you."

His eyes. Kindness, and awkwardness. He was just like any human in this situation, except for his physical appearance.

An arm reached behind his head. _Scratch. _

He was cute, I decided.

"Um..I'll leave it here for you." Daniel quickly deposited the deteriorating pot by my side, and retreated outside.

I stared at my feet. "Thank you." Whispers. I felt so timid. It wasn't fear, not really. Not of an alien. Just of a fellow being.

_How am I supposed to stand on my own like this?_

It was many moments before I could reach standing point. With my shorts dropped, I did my business – feeling nervous, wondering if the prawn outside could hear me. When I finished, I called his name. It was in their language. I felt my throat again as he entered.

"Um – here." A pot between us. Filled with my urine. I down casted my view.

He exited again. Mortified, and I'm sure red-faced, I sat down on the blanket-covered table.

My head hurt. I felt like throwing up again.

Daniel entered again, holding his upper arms. "I should probably tell you..you really shouldn't go outside. When you're out there, other prawns will maul you, regardless of who my father is."

I nodded. "Yeah. I figured."

Silence lazily swam around us.

"Who…is your father?" I faced him. His eyes were faced down, and his lips tight. Quickly, he exited the shack, slamming the door behind him.

Alone. Again.


End file.
